Deal
by Kelsey
Summary: Alex Whitman died weeks ago, but Isabel Evans has hardly had time to breathe, much less grieve. What more perfect time for her to deal with her loss than summer? Conclusion posted!
1. Prologue

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> ****
> 
> Prologue--PG
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> The danger is over. Tess is gone, and there is no blame left to me. Instead of making me feel good, though, suddenly I feel drained and ready to collapse. It doesn't help that some nagging voice in the back of my head is telling me that I need to deal with Alex's death, now, because if I don't... well, I don't know. We never got that far.
> 
> But it's all over. And though Khivar had his part in this tragedy, it wasn't because of me. It's sick, I know, but I'm almost thankful that it was Tess. Because if it had been Khivar, killing Alex because he was too close to me, I couldn't have lived with myself.
> 
> But the danger is gone. The adrenaline rush is over, the guilt that I've felt ever since Liz mentioned the idea, and at the same time, suppressed, is resolved. I never really took a moment to rest since he died, and now that I'm coming down from the emotionally and adrenaline-rush created highs, I have to deal.
> 
> This is going to be one hell of a summer.

[Prologue] [[1][2]] [[2][3]]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][4]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][5]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	2. Chapter One

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Author's Note 2: Pertaining to this chapter, sorry it's so short. There'll be more, I promise.

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> Chapter One--G
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> I never really thought about it before, but I still see Alex. In my dreams, okay, I'm sure plenty of people see their departed friends in their dreams, but I see him when I'm conscious, too. I didn't think about it, but that's not normal. Maybe this tragedy pushed me off the deep end, maybe I've just had too much to deal with all my life, and it caught up to me.
> 
> I just want to curl up in bed and fall asleep, leave it all for tomorrow, but I can't. Right now, I know that, with or without my permission, the floodgates have opened, and the first emotion that comes spilling out is anger and denial. I want to sit up and scream, yell at the world until they bring my love back to me.
> 
> At least long enough for me to tell him that I love him, to his face.
> 
> And then, suddenly, I remember something Max once told me. Pertaining to something else, of course, but equally relevant here. My brother, wise King that he is, said, "Deal with it, Iz. It won't go away. So just, short of hurting anyone, do what you have to do, and don't worry about it."
> 
> So, I sit up in bed and scream. I'm not naturally a loud person, and I don't speak more than I have to a lot of times, but my lungs are fine, and tonight, I've decided to take them for a test drive. I gather my breath, preparing to unleash my anger upon the world. This horrid world that spends so much time playing with my feelings.
> 
> "Nooooo!" I shriek, letting the anger and shock and astonishment and denial I never allowed myself to truly feel when he died wash over me. "No, not Alex, not Alex, not Alex!"
> 
> The house is awake now, though I doubt many of them were asleep. Max, I know, was no doubt pondering deep and meaningful questions of life, like, Liz or Tess? Tess or Liz? And it's hardly late enough for my parents to be asleep.
> 
> There's a pounding of feet in the hallway, but I ignore it. "Not Alex! You can have me, anybody you want, but not Alex!" I don't even care that I'm telling whoever it is I'm talking to that they can kill another person, as long as I can have Alex back.
> 
> But he wouldn't have wanted that, so I resolve not to say it again.
> 
> My mother and father rush in the door, and my mother runs to my side, looking startled and hurt, probably for me. I make no acknowledgment of either of their presences. 
> 
> "No! No, no, no, no, no, nooooooo!" I shout, pounding at my bed, my fists lighting up a little from my barely contained and rather unearthly powers. 
> 
> I look towards the doorway, and feel it as Max creates a barrier against the use of my powers, not wanting me to reveal myself unwittingly to our parents. I ignore him, although I'm sure I'll thank him later.
> 
> My parents are both at my sides now, my mother asking what's wrong, and my father pleading with me to calm down, then shouting when I don't obey. But I can't stop screaming, yelling at, pleading with, and feeling pure hatred for whatever mystical forces took Alex Whitman out of my life years too early.
> 
> "No! God, not Alex! I love him, I love him! Don't take him away!"
> 
> Max is the only calm one remaining, standing in the doorway, a strange expression on his face, just watching. Saying that I loved Alex shut up Mom and Dad for a moment, but not for nearly long enough. 
> 
> I wish they would just go away. They're not part of this, and I feel almost like I'm betraying Alex by having them present while I plead for his life.
> 
> "Iz? Honey, calm down, please," My mother is beseeching me.
> 
> "Isabel. Stop this screaming, now!" That's my father.
> 
> Isabel. This doesn't help. That's Max, unnaturally calm-sounding, inside my head, speaking to me like he used to when we'd just gotten out of the pods. I used to love it. Now, I feel like my head is being invaded, and I angrily block him out, using the residual powers that I have left under his control.
> 
> I'm almost spent now, I know, my throat is hoarse, and I won't be able to scream much longer. But I'm still furious, more angry than I've ever known myself to be, and so I shriek, just releasing my anger at the world, not bothering to try to tell it how I feel any longer. After all, it isn't going to listen, is it?
> 
> "Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!"
> 
> I guess Max has put up another barrier, too, because no one has called us, asked what all the screaming is about. I'll have to thank him later, doing that much with our powers drains even him, but right now, no more sound comes from my lips, and I know I look like a zombie. 
> 
> I'm looking through everything in front of my eyes, even my mother's hand, and not reacting in any way, to anybody or anything for a long couple of moments. At first they're merely silent, glad, I guess that, my screaming fit is over. But then, they get worried.
> 
> "Iz? Isabel?" My mother questions. 
> 
> "Maybe we should take her to the hospital," My father says worriedly, looking truly pale for what I think is the first time since I've known him. 
> 
> That unconsciously-made threat snaps me out of it, and I collapse on the bed, curling myself into a fetal position, tucking my knees as tight as they will go under my chin and not caring that I'm wearing hardly anything and neither my dad or brother has seen me dressed in this little since puberty hit about seven years ago. 
> 
> Tears run down my cheeks, tears that aren't quite connected with Alex's death, yet, anyway, more connected just to the simple fact that my body is overrun with emotions, and doesn't know what to do with them anymore. "Leave me, please," I whisper, and my mother looks at me worriedly. 
> 
> "Isabel, honey, are you sure? I'm not sure it's a good idea, to let you be alone after that..."
> 
> I just want them gone, so I make the easiest compromise. "Max can stay." He'll bother me less than their incessant talking and worrying.
> 
> My parents look a little hurt, rightly so, I suppose, but mostly just worried as they ease themselves out of the room, planting kisses on my forehead before they leave. 
> 
> All of a sudden, I ache for touch from another being who loves me, so I motion Max near. But as soon as his hands touch my skin, I shiver and push him away, realizing abruptly that it's only Alex's hands, Alex's skin that I want on mine. I cry harder.
> 
> Max isn't hurt, he understands, and he knows why I feel the way I do. I'd know if he was upset, we're too close for things like that to slip. 
> 
> He walks into the corner of the room, leans into it, and closes his eyes. Securing himself with a few well-placed alien mental tie-downs, he can sleep in that position, which, I'm sure, is more comfortable than our hard-wood floor.
> 
> "Max," I whisper without moving, and he looks at me.
> 
> "Yeah?"
> 
> "Go, please?"
> 
> He hesitates, but I say nothing more. I'm too tired, to drained, too spent to continue. I'm going to fall asleep either way. I'd rather he be gone, but if he wants to stay, there's nothing I can do about it. I close my eyes, and hear a moment later, the soft _click_ of my door being closed.
> 
> The blackness envelops me, and I don't fight it. But I do seek to direct it, to take me to that Crashdown where I can see Alex, if only again in my dreams. But I fear I might be too tired for even that. 
> 
> I can feel my grasp tightening, weak as it is. I'm pulling my dream of choice closer and closer, I'm almost there... almost there...

[[Prologue][2]] [1] [[2][3]]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][4]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][5]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	3. Chapter Two

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> Chapter Two--PG
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> The Crashdown materializes before my eyes, and I immediately turn, searching for Alex in the busy restaurant. I find him, draped casually over the counter, laughing with Maria. She is ringing up a customer who has part of her attention, and listening to him halfway, I can see.
> 
> "Alex!" I call, and he looks over at me. He stops laughing, but the smile remains, so gloriously comfortable on his open, handsome face. He walks forwards, closer and closer until he's within reach and I take a step and fall into his arms. 
> 
> I press my lips to his, and he responds in kind, pushing gently with his tongue against my lips. I open them eagerly, allowing him to explore the inside of my mouth with the kind of gentle, relaxed pace that he usually- _used to_- employ as a philosophy of life.
> 
> Retreating his tongue, he takes my lower lips between his teeth, and worries it gently. My knees are getting weak, and I slid into a booth, pulling him so that he's half-lying on me, and half- sitting in front of me. He pulls his lips from mine, and I'm about to complain, but then he re-latches them onto the sensitive skin on my neck. I moan gently.
> 
> And right then, Alex pulls away, a serious look suddenly in his deep, handsome eyes. "This is just a dream, Isabel. I'll still be gone when you wake up," My dream version of my dream boyfriend reminds me.
> 
> Tears spring to my eyes at the reminder, but I nod. "I just want to be with you, Alex. I know I shouldn't be here, I know it just makes it worse, but I can't help it! I can't live without you in my life _somehow!_" I plead.
> 
> He smiles gently, and plants a soft kiss on my lips. "It's okay, Isabel." He turns, and snuggles me against him, where I fold my long frame into a smaller shape that he can more easily cuddle. I love being in his arms in a way that I love no other place.
> 
> "Want to go somewhere more private?" He asks.
> 
> I look around, remembering our location. Because it's my dream, no one pays any attention in our direction, but still, in my head, the Crashdown is a public place, and it would be more comfortable to be out of it if we're going to talk, or kiss... or something else.
> 
> I close my eyes and concentrate, turning the room abruptly into my bedroom, sunlight shining in the window, both me and Alex spilled across the bed. My head is on his chest and his arms are cradling me. It's a pose that I had thought about, time and time again before he died, but which we had never actually been in.
> 
> He puts a gentle kiss on the top of my head, and I cuddle a little closer. We could talk, we could talk about anything, in a dream, but I don't want to, I just want to lie here, and bask in his company. I feel like this could be forever...
> 
> Then he's fading, and I'm losing my grip, and I call his name, trying to hold onto the dissipating fog that was once his form... The fight seems to go on forever, and I call his name again and again...
> 
> And suddenly, I'm jarred out of my restful state into the world where Alex is dead and Tess killed him and Max is so tied up in being the King that he forgets about me and what I need, and I'm one of four, now three, aliens on earth, who don't belong and are constantly being hunted.
> 
> Mom is crouched by the side of my bed. There's pinkish light streaming in the window, it must be about dawn, long before the people in my home usually get up, and she's using a wet washcloth to rub sweat from my face, and I can feel it, hot and sticky all over the rest of my body.
> 
> I look up at her, and know that I must have woken her up, probably with my cries of Alex's name. From the state of my covers, I can tell that I must have been thrashing around a lot, too. 
> 
> "Thanks," I say softly, and she looks up at me from where she was dipping the washcloth. I give her a humorless smile, and she returns the gesture with a gentle, quiet smile meant only to convey love.
> 
> "I was dreaming about him again..." I say in the same soft tone, and she looks pained for me. Meanwhile, though I'm increasingly aware of the world that surrounds me, I'm still basking in the gentle glow of the dreamworld.
> 
> It breaks apart fast though, and the realities of this world begin to come back into focus, making me turn my head away from my mother to hide the tears creeping down my cheeks. She waits a moment, then quietly picks up and leaves, obviously sensing my wish to deal with my emotions alone.
> 
> Later, I drag myself out of bed, in no particular hurry and almost unaware of the fact that school has been in session for almost two hours and Max is long gone from the house. Breakfast tastes sour, so I don't eat it, and everything on the television is crap, so I don't watch it. Mom is puttering around the house, apparently home from work to baby-sit me, but after a few failed attempts, doesn't try to speak to me.
> 
> Later, I go out to visit Kyle at the Crashdown, where we can both simply vent our anger and share our fears with each other. Since Alex's death, and later, when we learned about Tess's betrayal, this has been an important step in dealing, for both of us. Michael, Maria and Liz are there, and Max would be, except that he's grounded for coming in so late a few weeks ago after he was with Tess, getting the Jeep totaled, and never telling anyone where he was all those times.
> 
> It's funny. Alex was just one person, but without him, I feel like I've lost all of my friends. I watch them as they work. 
> 
> Liz doesn't hate me anymore, but I wouldn't name her as my best girl friend, either, and Michael and Maria are both over each other more than they're either working or paying attention to me. Michael came by our table once, mine and Kyle's, told me I looked horrible, and asked if he could do anything, looking rather pained as he did so.
> 
> I told him no, and he left as quickly as he had come.
> 
> I go to Alex's grave every night if I can. Sometimes, I just look at it impassively, and sometimes I cry, and sometimes I talk to him. In my more sane moments, I occasionally worry about this, I'm not supposed to see dead people, am I? but most of the time, I'm just so grateful for his presence, to ease the constant ache in my chest even for mere moments, that I don't bother to question.
> 
> Tonight, I take my book, and I lie on his grave, the earth still fairly fresh, my hand touching his gravestone the whole time. I don't know why, but it makes me feel closer to him, even though I don't believe that there's anything of Alex in the ground here. What's here is just bones and flesh and the case that housed him, nothing of his soul.
> 
> I fall asleep this way, and am roused about midnight by a rough shake on my shoulder. My mother is again, leaning over me as I awake, but this time, her face is sharp with anxiety and concern, slightly tinged with anger. 
> 
> "Isabel! We were worried about you! And you shouldn't fall asleep, alone in a graveyard! Who knows what could happen to you?"
> 
> I shrug, not having considered it. Of course, my parents don't know that I possess powers capable of incinerating someone with a mere thought, so I can see how they might have been a bit worried. This would have been a stupid move for a human to make, indeed.
> 
> I don't speak as they pull me to my feet and load me into the car. When we arrive home, I undress and change myself, but I still don't acknowledge the presences of anyone other than myself. Max comes in to say goodnight, and doesn't seem bothered by my indifference at all, but my mother begs me to speak to her for so long that I finally consent and mumble a goodnight as she is leaving.
> 
> This day has been too damn long.

[[Prologue][2]] [[1][3]] [2]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][4]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][5]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	4. Chapter Three

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Warning: This chapter contains underage alcohol use and mentions of suicidal thoughts.

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> Chapter Three- PG
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Things just get harder. Harder and harder and harder. Alex comes less often as the days go on, each time telling me that it isn't good for me, that I need to heal and get over him. Sometimes I wonder if he really is my subconscious, telling me what I need to do, or if I can somehow communicate with him via my alien heritage, because I can't imagine denying myself the sheer wonder of any time spent with him.
> 
> But I can see the real Alex trying to do what was best in the long run, even if it hurt him or even me greatly in the immediate.
> 
> I thought that day when my parents dragged me home from Alex's grave was long, but it was nothing compared to what every day this week has been like. It's a living hell. I hold up my end as best as I can, trying to make everything run smoothly in the household, trying to act as I always do, but I know I'm depressed, and I know there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, can you see trying to explain that to a shrink? "Thanks Mrs. So-and-so, but I'm an alien, and that's really where all my problems start." Yeah, right.
> 
> Max and Michael try to help, but they both have their own lives, and don't notice how I'm feeling as much as they might. Michael and Maria are bickering less, and being touchy-feely romantic more. It's obvious something has changed there, but unlike I might during a different time, I don't really care. And Max is trying to get himself back in the good side of Liz, busily trying to re-earn her trust. 
> 
> Kyle has been an amazingly good friend, and allows me to dump on him when I need it, but it helps less and less. What I need is Alex, I need Alex back. Nothing ever felt like this when he was here, like I didn't belong and wasn't welcome and couldn't escape. I feel suffocated right now, I'm drowning in my own misery.
> 
> So, naturally, last night I did something really stupid.
> 
> ***************
> 
> "Isabel!" It's one of my admirers calling, undoubtedly some crude jock with a crass vocabulary who exists on alcohol and pot, and thinks with his crotch. As usual, I don't even bother to acknowledge him.
> 
> "Isabel!" He says again, catching up to me and walking along at a brisk clip by my elbow. I see now that it's Scott Thompson, truly the worst of the worst. He hangs out with Malemude and the rest of the football jocks, all of whom I know only passingly. Amazingly, Kyle considers them friends. For someone as smart as he is, it's truly absurd, but apparently, he doesn't share my conviction in that fact.
> 
> "What do you want, Scott?" I ask him tiredly, continuing out to the courtyard where I know Max, Kyle and Liz, possibly Michael and Maria too, will be waiting for me to join them.
> 
> "I want you to come with me to a party tonight." He offers. 
> 
> I'm about to brush it off the way I usually do, but then something makes me reconsider. If I don't go, it's just gonna be me and my homework in an empty house, and I'm not sure I'm up for that. "What kind of party, Scott?"
> 
> He isn't sure how to answer that, isn't sure if I'll turn him in, or tell someone who will. "What do you mean?" He asks, even though I can clearly see he knows what I mean.
> 
> I'm tired of playing around, so, as usual, I take the blunt path. "Are we talking balloons and cake and presents, Scott, or is it the sex, drugs and alcohol kind of party?"
> 
> He looks around the hall, and then back to me. "I guess that would have to be the latter," He responds.
> 
> I flash him a patented Isabel-Evans smile, and he looks almost shocked. "Sure, Scott, I'll go. See you at seven."
> 
> He almost can't close his mouth because of his shock, but he nods, clearly amazed. "Great! Later, Iz."
> 
> I grab him as he leaves. "It's _Isabel_, not Iz. Nobody, _nobody_ but who I say so gets to call me that."
> 
> He nods. "Sorry... Isabel."
> 
> I let him go, and make my way out to the yard. I shouldn't have done that, but I can't help it. My family are the only ones who get immediate privileges, Michael included. The only person outside of them that I let call me by my nicknames was Alex.
> 
> Look how that turned out.
> 
> **************
> 
> My parents were out with some friends, and Max was who knows where. Probably with Liz, or if not, maybe having a guys night out with Michael. After all, he and Maria had to separate some time, didn't they? So, I didn't have to account for my whereabouts to anyone. 
> 
> Scott came to get me at nine, and the evening started out with awkward conversation on his part, and silence on mine. I didn't want to hurt him, but I truly wasn't in the mood to make small talk, and I surely wasn't ready for a new relationship. Anyway, we made it to the party, and he ditched me as fast as he could, having obviously figured out that I wasn't going to be 'putting out' tonight.
> 
> I bumped into a drunk Kyle, but he didn't want to do anything except nuzzle a girl whose name I doubt he knew. He took it hard, Tess's betrayal, almost as hard as I did when I learned that the girl I'd considered to be my best friend had killed the man I was in love with.
> 
> Anyway, I picked up the bottle of beer someone handed me, knowing fully what I was getting myself into because of Max's rather colorful experience, and I don't remember much after that. A few foggy images, a little hungry making out with guys I didn't know, though, thankfully, I know I remembered not to let it go too far.
> 
> My only worry was that I would spill about my true heritage, but I had to escape, had to make the pain leave, even if the only thing I got to replace it was a drunken haze. So I did. And I didn't spill anything. Except a whole lot of beer, some of it regurgitated.
> 
> I vaguely remember some fairly nice guy offering to drive me home, and me accepting his help. I got home to find Max pacing the room, worried sick about me, probably concerned that I would do something stupid, something like I had, resulting from my depression.
> 
> Max thanked the guy who'd brought me home, and helped me stumble into the house. "Max..." I cooed at him in total drunken idiodicy.
> 
> He looked at me like the protective brother he's always been. "Man, Iz, you're really plastered. How much did you drink?"
> 
> I giggled, and held up three fingers. "Three sips?" He questioned.
> 
> "Three bottles!" I crowed. 
> 
> He stopped, and turned to face me, concern in his eyes. "Iz, if I can get drunk on one sip, you could have died from alcohol poisoning on three bottles!"
> 
> I shrugged. "I don't care."
> 
> "Iz, you don't want to die, do you?"
> 
> I cocked my head, thinking about it for a moment. "I'd be with Alex," I said. "Th real Alex. Not the funny one in my head, _not_ the one who 'says seeing him is bad for me."
> 
> Max was worried by then, I can see now, though it wasn't very clear through my drunken stupor. "You see Alex?"
> 
> I nodded, and tapped my head. "Here. In here. 'Says he's part of my 'unconsciousness'. I think he's a big fat liar 'cause he keeps trying to go away, and there's NO part of me who wants him to go away!"
> 
> I'm crying by now, and Max has me cuddled against his shoulder like a small child. "Shhh, Iz, it'll be okay. But don't give up on this world yet, okay?"
> 
> I nod. "Okay."
> 
> Max holds my head up so that my eyes meet his, and looks at me. "Isabel, promise me you won't try to kill yourself."
> 
> I look at him for a long moment, thinking about refusing. But in the end, Max is my home as much as Alex is the only one who holds the key to my heart, and I have to remember that. "I promise, Max."
> 
> He looked so relieved, and kissed my forehead before he tucked me into bed. He left a couple of aspirin by my bedside table, along with a glass of water, knowing that I might be too weak to block the pain in the morning. I didn't speak again, and when he left the room, I passed out almost as fast as I'd gotten drunk.

[[Prologue][2]] [[1][3]] [[2][4]] [3]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][5]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][6]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	5. Chapter Four

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Warning: More mentions of suicidal thoughts, and some drug use.

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> Chapter Four- PG-13
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> I woke up realizing that I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt myself, not after making that promise to Max. Because, like it or not, drowning in misery or not, he is my home, and I couldn't hurt him that much.
> 
> So, I decided to pursue other avenues of relief from the pain.
> 
> *********
> 
> It's been three weeks, and I'm sitting in a hospital room on a gurney, waiting for the plastic and acid taste of the tube they put down my throat to pump my stomach to go away. Max is at my side, and he's not happy, neither are my parents, but at least they're gone now. 
> 
> I don't even know what I took. I simply went to the best known drug dealer at my school, handed him my money and told him I wanted to forget my problems. He handed me a bunch of stuff, told me what to do with it, and never to tell anyone his name. I'd just nodded.
> 
> For a while, it had worked fine. Long hauls in the desert were ordinary for me and Max and Michael, so no one worried, and during those times, I could get wasted out of society's eyes. But I started having a problem when I craved those happy, carefree, and high times all the time.
> 
> And, it wasn't enough anymore. I could get high, but I still couldn't forget all my problems. So, I dumped the safety issues, and just took it all. 
> 
> Teach me to do that.
> 
> I know what I did was beyond stupid. Drugs kill you, and they'd probably have killed me if Max hadn't found me. But sometimes, I think it's all worth it, for those moments when the pain went away, and I was just soaring on an ocean of freedom and ecstasy. No pun intended.
> 
> Now, getting your stomach pumped is not fun, though.
> 
> Max is rising, probably going to tell Michael and Liz and Maria and Kyle, who are no doubt in the waiting room, what a stupid thing I did. And then my parents are going to come in and lecture me. Like Max's wasn't enough. 
> 
> Apparently, it wasn't, because he leans over me again, just looking for a long moment, and then begins to speak.
> 
> "Isabel, I can't believe you did this!"
> 
> "Well, I just took your advice, Max." Completely cold, ice-princess cool. I wish I could say that I'd learned more from my time at West Roswell High School than how to be a bitch.
> 
> "What the hell are you talking about?"
> 
> "Remember, 'if I have to, I'll tell Mom and Dad you have a drug problem'?" I parroted.
> 
> "Of course I remember, Iz! But I wasn't trying to give you a fucking _idea!_"
> 
> "Don't use that kind of language, Max."
> 
> "'Don't use that kind of language, Max?'" He parroted back. "That's all you have to say after you almost got yourself _killed_? You promised me, Izzy! You promised me!"
> 
> And suddenly I could see how scared he was. How afraid he was of maybe having almost lost me. How he could feel almost as alone on this earth without me as I do right now, without Alex. 
> 
> I reached out to hug him. "I'm sorry, Max. I wasn't trying to hurt myself, I swear! I just wanted to forget."
> 
> Max's eyes tear up, and I can see lecture mode coming on. "But Iz, you don't _want_ to forget! If you forget, than Alex is lost. But if you remember, he'll always live."
> 
> I look away from my brother's searching eyes. "I can't remember, Max. It hurts too much. It hurts so much that my chest is so tight... I can't _breathe_, Max."
> 
> Max looked at me, and reached a hand up to touch my cheek gently. Then he left the room, heading who knows where. Probably to go talk to Mom and Dad.
> 
> **************
> 
> Michael and Maria came to visit today. I've only been here for a day, and it's already to freaking long. But, I'm out of context.
> 
> Anyway, it seems almost like they're joined at the hip, like they're not Michael and Maria anymore, but more MichaelandMaria. It's kind of cute. They try too hard not to be too couply when they visit me, though. It seeps through anyway, though. Little gestures, little looks.
> 
> I love them for trying as hard as they do, but I have to put a stop to it. It isn't helping at all, and it's hurting them, I can see it. I know just how they feel. They feel the way I felt when Alex didn't want to come visit, because he had to study that night. Aching, just almost hurting, to be in each other's arms.
> 
> "Give it up, guys," I tell them tiredly, not really looking at either of them.
> 
> Michael gives me a funny look. "Give what up, Iz?"
> 
> "The facade. The not acting like a couple when everyone on this planet knows you are." I pause, then realize what I said. "And probably some on others, too." Totally cold humor, but I've found that if you display one at all, people tend to ask if you're all right less.
> 
> They looked at each other, and for the remainder of the visit, didn't seem to curb their impulses to touch each other, and be near each other. I can't say it didn't hurt me to watch them, but it was a familiar hurt now, knowing that they had something I'd had once, but could never have again.
> 
> About an hour before visiting hours were over, Michael and Maria left. Max came in to sit with me for a while, but he didn't want to talk, and my throat was still sore from the tube, so we just sat in each other's company for a while. Max left when Kyle showed up, and I did talk to him, though we kept it light, and by necessity, short.
> 
> I get to go home tomorrow, and that's what I'll have to keep telling myself to get through tonight. It's funny, when it's by choice, I can be hundreds of miles from my family and not miss them much at all, but now that it's taken out of my hands, I'm having trouble dealing with the fact that Max isn't a yell away anymore.
> 
> Then again, that's my whole problem, isn't it? Dealing, I mean. Because, honestly, I suck at it. If I didn't, everything that did, wouldn't have happened. Or at least, a lot of them.
> 
> Why do I care about going home? I'll just have to find another way to lose myself and get out of this misery, won't I? It's not like it'll be much different lying on the couch there, than lying in the bed, here.
> 
> And with those wonderfully upbeat thoughts, I'm going to turn in.
> 
> ***********
> 
> I'm home today, but Mom and Dad are watching me like a hawk. I'd like to do a little dreamwalking at least, if there's no other form of entertainment available to me, but I can't, not with them so close.
> 
> I'm sitting on the side of my desk, just thinking. Suddenly, a photo on the corner of the deck catches my eye. An achingly familiar photo.
> 
> It's me and Alex, taken at the prom, obviously when we weren't looking. Someone captured us deeply enthralled in each other, I think it was right before I kissed him. God, if I'd known what I would be getting, I'd have kissed Alex Whitman long before I did.
> 
> I wonder what would happen if you tried to dreamwalk a dead person? Probably nothing. I can't see how it could hurt to try, though. And if Mom or Dad comes in and sees me asleep with a picture of Alex in my hands, they won't think much about it. 
> 
> Slowly, I make my way to my bed, the picture clutched tightly in my hands. I lay myself back, straighten out, getting as comfortable as I can. I put my hand on the photo and think of him, just him, trying to forget that he's dead. Because, if I think about him while remembering he's dead, all I want to do is cry, and I really want to see what happens.
> 
> Nothing happens, but it takes me a long time to give up. I hear Mom open my door, and wait a long moment, knowing I look like I'm sleeping. I then hear it click as she leaves. 
> 
> Three hours later, I admit defeat with a flood of quiet tears that would have rivaled anyone else's. I don't know what I had been expecting, a vision of Alex telling me that that number was no longer operational? Dreamwalking isn't exactly a telephone service.
> 
> I refuse dinner, and Mom brings it to me, though I don't eat it. At about ten, Michael clambers into my window, and I barely look up. Max probably sent him. He comes to my side and flops down on the bed next to me, giving me that warm feeling of comfort and safety that Max and Michael's presences always do. They're so damn protective of me. I can take care of myself, but it makes me feel good that they care that much.
> 
> "Max said you weren't doing so well," He remarks. I can hear the concern in his voice under the bland tone he's covering it with, but I pretend not to.
> 
> "Score one," I mumble impassively.
> 
> "What?"
> 
> "Score one," I repeat, this time louder. "Max sent you. One point for Isabel, none for Michael." I still don't look at him.
> 
> "Look, Isabel, Maxwell said you weren't doing so well. It was my own foolish idea to come here and try to talk to you!" He's angry, but surprisingly, he doesn't get up to leave. It wouldn't have surprised me. It would have been just like Michael. Way, way too quick to heat up. I suppose it's better than Max, who has a long fuse, but who lights up like a forest fire when he does.
> 
> "Sorry," I tell him, matching his previously bland tone with one of my own.
> 
> Michael sits up next to me, and looks down at my prone body, which, I might add, is barely decent in my skimpy nightwear. But he doesn't look uncomfortable, and I don't care, because whatever destiny might assume, Michael is a brother and best friend to me, no one with whom I have any kind of sexual tension.
> 
> "Isabel, we're all worried about you."
> 
> "We?" I question. I've never been very nice to Maria and Liz, I didn't think they'd much mind if I dropped off the face of the earth. It's just my brothers they'd miss.
> 
> "Maria and Liz would miss you, Isabel, no matter what you think. And you know that Max and I both... care about you. A lot." Funny how he doesn't mention Kyle. But then again, his relationship with Kyle basically includes walking the other direction whenever he sees him.
> 
> "Hm."
> 
> Michael's been trying the polite route, but like me, that really doesn't work for him, and he's fed up with it now. "Did you try to kill yourself, Iz?" He asks.
> 
> "No."
> 
> "Isabel. You may not be going about it the quick way, but you know you are." Never call Michael anything but blunt. "If you go on this way, you're gonna die without doing anything else about it."
> 
> I don't answer.
> 
> "What's wrong, Isabel, huh? What's so terribly awful that life isn't worth living anymore?"
> 
> That's the last straw, and I sit up as the anger comes pouring out. The anger at the rest of the gang for not understanding, the anger at the world for taking Alex away, just all of the anger that I've had stored up inside of me for these months.
> 
> "What the hell do you think is wrong, huh, Michael? My boyfriend is _dead!_ As in rotting, never coming back, dead! Plus this little fact that I'm not from this earth! You, of all people, know how draining our lives here can be. And now, after the love of my life dies, you ask me what's wrong? God!"
> 
> We just sit there for a long moment, him watching me just a little too intently. After a while, it gets too scrutinizing, and I don't want to talk anymore, anyway. "Go."
> 
> "What?"
> 
> "Go. Please."
> 
> "No. Isabel, you have things that need to be dealt with, and I know I'm the wrong person to help. But there's no one except us, and you're going to have to accept that, sooner or later."
> 
> "Get out of here, Michael."
> 
> "Talk, Isabel. Then I'll leave."
> 
> "Get out, Michael. Go back to banging Maria, or whatever it is that you do in your spare time." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Michael backs away coldly, and gives me a glare that could freeze fire. He backs out the window, and I hear his footsteps, moving briskly away from me.
> 
> I hate it that I did that. I didn't want to hurt him. I just needed to be alone, and he wouldn't leave. 
> 
> Yeah, that's right Isabel, keep telling yourself that. It's a nice, tidy excuse for why you just hurt the feelings of your best friend.
> 
> I wish my damn conscience would stop talking so much.

[[Prologue][2]] [[1][3]] [[2][4]] [[3][5]] [4] [[5][6]]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][7]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][8]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_3.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princesss_mcphee/deal_5.htm
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [8]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	6. Chapter Five

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Warning: Discussions of suicidal thoughts throughout this chapter.

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> Chapter Five- PG-13
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> I have to apologize to Michael. I search him out all morning at school, which I go to simply to assure my parents that I'm not going to do anything again, but he's not there. Either that, or he's on the lookout, avoiding me. I hope not, I didn't mean to hurt him.
> 
> I guess I know now what's different between him and Maria, though, since my statement struck such a nerve earlier.
> 
> Right now, I'm pretty okay. It's weird how it comes and goes, how the intensity of the feelings wanes with the day and feels pretty God-damn insurmountable during the night. Being tired intensifies it.
> 
> I have to go see a shrink. It won't help with all of my alien issues, but surprise! I'm actually hoping maybe he or she can help me deal with Alex's death, since that's something I'm obviously not doing very well.
> 
> I saw Maria earlier, and she didn't act any different than she usually does, so I guess Michael didn't tell her what I said. I saw my brother, and I wanted desperately to talk to him, but I couldn't, because he was following Liz around like the puppy-dog he should have been born as.
> 
> Kyle told me only what I'd already figured out: That I should apologize. He also told me that it was rude of me, but it shouldn't have been a friendship-shattering blow. He doesn't know Michael, though. He's been hurt by too many people, and I've always tried so hard not to be one of them. 
> 
> I'd pray that Kyle's right, but I don't believe in a God, so that won't work.
> 
> **********
> 
> I find Michael at lunchtime, on the quad, with Maria on his lap, and Max and Liz next to them. Kyle is with his jock buddies, but when he sees I'm not going to join the happy four, he jogs away from his friends, and comes to sit with me. "How's it going?" He asks.
> 
> "Okay," I respond, having long since realized that 'okay' is the easiest answer to give to people who don't want to hear about your troubles, or when you don't want to talk, without out-right lying. Goodness knows, I do enough lying in my life, you wouldn't think it would be that hard to get used to, but it's still hard for me to do.
> 
> But Kyle knows me better than that. "Well, come talk to me if you need to, okay?" He says, adding an obvious accent on the 'okay'. I guess he's heard that one a few too many times from me, and it does get a little smile out of my usually somber and depressed self.
> 
> "Okay, Kyle." Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Malemude is waving for him, motioning him to return to their table, and I shoo him away. "Go. I'm fine, and I need to talk to Michael, anyway."
> 
> Kyle nods, and stands. "Good luck."
> 
> I give an unhappy smile. "Thanks."
> 
> I throw away my trash, and approach the couples. Maria is giggling like only Maria can as I approach, but when she feels Michael stiffen under her, she looks around for the cause. As soon as she sees Michael's gaze rest on me, she climbs off of his lap, and pushes him towards me. I flash her a quick smile.
> 
> He approaches me with trepidation, and I don't blame him. I hate the tension between us, so I get right to the point. "I'm sorry, Michael. I didn't mean to say that, and I didn't mean... I didn't mean for things to get messed up between us." 
> 
> Ordinarily, a verbal jab like I'd given him would be a small wound, but Michael has definite trust issues, and I want him to trust me. I watch with what I'm sure is obvious anxiousness as he considers, and then break into a smile as he reaches out and hugs me. "Okay, Izzy."
> 
> I smile into his shoulder, then up at his face as he releases. "Thank you, Michael." He nods, and takes my hand, leading me back to the group. I sit nervously on the edge, without anyone to couple with, or anyone that I would want to couple with, at least, but none of the rest of the crowd seems uncomfortable with my presence.
> 
> Lunch is over too fast, and my classes pass in a blur. The afternoon is fairly uneventful, but the night is tough. Mom stays with me for at least an hour before I fall asleep. At least, tomorrow I get to go to the therapist's, instead of school.
> 
> *********
> 
> Ms. Thompson, or Elizabeth, as I'm supposed to call her, is a nice young woman, only a few years older than me, I think. We get through the introductory stuff pretty quickly, and I tell her about my brother, Michael, Maria, Kyle, and Liz. I leave Tess out of it, finding it hard to come up with believable story about her.
> 
> She learns about my parents, how they've treated me well, and how I don't remember anything from the time before we were wandering along the highway when I was six. She says it's unusual, but how else an I supposed to describe it to a human without any knowledge of our existence?
> 
> Then, we get to Alex.
> 
> "Isabel, your mother told me when she made this appointment that your boyfriend was recently killed, and you were having trouble dealing with it. Can we talk about that?" She asks.
> 
> I want to say no, but I nod my head reluctantly. After all, it's what I'm here to talk about anyway, isn't it?
> 
> "Well, let's start simple. What was he like, Isabel? What was your relationship like?"
> 
> I look at the floor, tears in the corners of my eyes as I remember all the things that Alex did for me, that we did together. "He was... wonderful. He had a funny, wild, kind of wacky sense of humor, and these deep, brown eyes... he cared about everybody, always trying to make problems better, help you deal with things.
> 
> "He had a crush on me for several years, but I was a popular kid, and didn't want anything to do with him. Then, in our sophomore year, our group, me and Max and Michael, sort of fused with his group, him and Maria and Liz, and I started to pay a little attention to him. We almost got together, but I had too many trust issues.
> 
> "Then, this year, about six months ago, we started drifting closer again. We started to hang out, aside from with the group, and he took me to the Prom. A week later... he was hit by a truck, and killed."
> 
> There's silence for a moment, and I can feel her eyes on my back. Slowly, I get my tears under control, and look up at her with a little smile on my face, a smile of remembrance. "He did a strip-dance for my eighteenth birthday," I said. "In a police costume, and he got down to his pants and undershirt before he realized my mother was watching him."
> 
> Elizabeth smiled. "How did you feel about that?" She asked. 
> 
> I smiled sadly. "Happy. He was so cute, and being so sexy... at the time, I was dating another man, but that didn't last very long. I cared for him, but I didn't have those kind of feelings for him."
> 
> "What happened to him?"
> 
> "We... broke up." How else was I supposed to explain what had happened to Grant?
> 
> "Did you have an angry breakup, or was it fairly mutual?"
> 
> I stared at the lights in the ceiling. "It was pretty much mutual. I don't see him anymore, but I don't think he's mad at me, and I know I'm not upset with him."
> 
> Elizabeth just looks at me for a long moment. I'm still staring at the ceiling, but I can feel her eyes on me, alien powers, I guess. Then, softly, "What do you regret about your relationship with Alex, Isabel?"
> 
> The tears are threatening to overflow again, and I avoid her gaze. "Mostly... that I didn't realize how special he was sooner. And... that I never got to tell him that I loved him, before he..." I trail off, not willing to discuss him being dead just yet.
> 
> "You loved him, Isabel? In what way? Was he a good friend, maybe someone you could have fallen in love with, or do you think you were already in love with him?"
> 
> I don't hesitate to answer that question. "I was in love with him. God, I still am, and it hurts so much."
> 
> "Why did you never tell him?"
> 
> "I was going to, that night. But he had to stay home and study. Then... he died that same night."
> 
> "How do you feel when you think about him being gone, Isabel?"
> 
> How do I describe how I feel about Alex's death? I feel so many things. But I take a deep breath, and do my best to put them into words. "I feel... lost. Like I'm missing something. A part of me. And I miss him so much, sometimes I don't think I can handle never seeing him again."
> 
> "Did you ever try to act against those feelings, Isabel?"
> 
> I laugh a little bitterly. "You could say that."
> 
> "What did you do?"
> 
> When I hesitate, she forces me to look at her, and gives me what I'm sure is supposed to be a reassuring smile. "I won't judge, Isabel. I just want to know what you did, so that I can help you."
> 
> "Well... I got more than a little drunk one night, about a month ago. Totally smashed, actually, was the way my brother described me."
> 
> "Anything else?"
> 
> I looked down at the floor, ashamed now at what I'd done. The old Isabel Evans would have never even considered doing drugs. "I took some... stuff."
> 
> "Drugs?"
> 
> I nod wordlessly.
> 
> "Did you ever try to injure yourself, Isabel? Did you ever wish that you were dead, so that you could be with Alex?"
> 
> I shrug. "I wish I was with Alex, but no, I haven't tried to commit suicide, if that's what you're asking."
> 
> "Do you think you might decide to, one day?" Elizabeth asks, her face totally placid.
> 
> I shrug again. "I have people here, people who love me. People who I wouldn't want to put through that kind of pain. So, probably not."
> 
> "Do you feel like you're staying alive just for those people?"
> 
> "Sometimes."
> 
> "And the rest of the time?"
> 
> "Alex wouldn't want me to give up."
> 
> Elizabeth nods. "Our session time is over, Isabel, but I want you to know that I'm always here, always available if you need to talk. And please, promise me you'll tell someone, one of your parents, your brother, or a friend, even, if you feel like hurting yourself."
> 
> I don't answer. If I really want to do something about my pathetic existence, then why would I give them a chance to stop me? And if I'm scared of it, I'm probably not going to do it, right?
> 
> "Isabel?"
> 
> I nod. Sometimes, it's just easier to commit and untruth than to tell the whole of what you're feeling.

[[Prologue][2]] [[1][3]] [[2][4]] [[3][5]] [[4][6]] [5]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][7]

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_3.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_4.htm
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [8]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	7. Chapter Six

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Author's Note 2: Two very special lagomorphs (rabbits) helped me through some tough times once. But I bought both of them, knowing full well what I was getting into. Never, ever, give a pet as a gift, especially to a person who is grieving and probably can't handle it. 

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> Chapter Six--PG-13
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> I got through the week, barely. Surprisingly, even to myself, I'm more than ready to go back to Elizabeth. But I'm equally scared, afraid that I'm hoping she's some kind of miracle lifeline that I'm clinging to, asking to fix everything.
> 
> But, for now, I try not to think about it, and I know my friends and family try hard to keep it from coming up. Yesterday, I heard my mother tell my father that I would need to face reality sometime, but for now, it was fine if I needed to cling.
> 
> Max stays at my side most of the day, leaving only when he has to, and even then, I sometimes hear him tell Michael or Kyle to watch out for me. Under ordinary circumstances, I would tell them to buzz off, but they're only trying to do the right thing. They're all scared that I'm going to do something stupid. I guess if I was in their position, I'd be afraid of that, too, but I'm not. I'm in my position.
> 
> It's mid-June, and the weather is typically New Mexico hot. I love to swim, I'm capable and strong, and I used to belong to the diving team, but this year, I haven't gone to the pool more than twice, hating the attention I draw, the whispers and stares. 
> 
> I sleep with a picture of Alex in my arms. I have to wash it every morning to get the fingerprints and lint and stuff off of it, but I couldn't sleep without it. But I don't try to dreamwalk him anymore, afraid of what our meetings might bring. Besides, I wouldn't want to do wrong by his memory. I think the dream-Alex was right when he said Alex wouldn't want to be there.
> 
> My friends and family have been wonderful to me. Max even gave me a little bunny, and he's probably the only thing that I take care of regularly. He spends more time in my arms than in his cage, and he's wonderfully affectionate. I named him Alex II. 
> 
> Max told me that he's going to get big, ten or eleven pounds at least, and I've spoiled him rotten. He doesn't actually live in a cage, but in a puppy pen in the corner of my room, about six feet long and two feet wide. He gets gourmet bunny food, and held almost six or seven hours a day. I've even learned to type one-handed to accommodate his arrival.
> 
> Sometimes, he's my best friend. There's just something about a pet that makes him more of a best friend sometimes than any human could ever be.
> 
> *********
> 
> Liz and Maria invited me to one of their sleepovers. I'm shocked, and a little bit excited, too, I have to admit. But I'm not certain that Max or Michael didn't put them up to this. I don't want their pity. But if they're truly willing to try and be friends, I couldn't be more grateful.
> 
> Sometimes, it gets lonely being the only girl in a trio of best friends. Max and Michael have always treated me as an equal, from day one, but still, there's just something there, that pushes us further and further apart as we grow older. 
> 
> I pack my bag carefully, not wanting to appear unfriendly. I don't know what I'm getting into, I've never been on a girly sleepover, but they seem to know that, and have promised to show me the way. There's some movies, a couple of CDs, and my clothes in the pack, as well as a sleeping bag. Not that I'll need one. I'll be lucky if I can go to sleep at all, in this heat.
> 
> At twenty minutes to seven, I leave, not wanting to be late. It's hard to feel included in Liz and Maria's friendship, sometimes, and I don't want tonight to be like that. I say this, because it's usually my fault. They do their best, but it's really all in my perception.
> 
> Maria's mother opens the door, her expression obviously one of anger. I look around for the cause, and find that she's holding a portable telephone. She waves me inside, and flashes a quick smile before pointing absently in the direction of what I can only assume is Maria's room.
> 
> I knock gently on the door, unexpectedly finding it open. It swings into the room, and I find Maria, cotton balls between her toes, painting her nails. "Hey!" She greets me in her usual exuberant fashion, and I can't help but smile. 
> 
> "Hey." I stand there uncomfortably for a moment, then drop my bags to the floor. "Where should I put my stuff?" I ask.
> 
> Maria shrugs. "Oh, anywhere. We'll have to move stuff when it's time to sleep, anyway."
> 
> I nod, and leave my bags where they are. Maria hands me a bag of cotton balls, and some nail polish. "What color do you want?" She asks.
> 
> I'm surprised with her open friendliness, but then remember that this is probably, at least in part, due to Max and Michael. My mood sinks, just a little, but I can't get too upset, because she is being so welcoming. "Can I use the red?" I ask, and Maria hands it to me.
> 
> I look at it, and then at today's outfit, and tomorrows'. It doesn't quite match. "Is it okay if I change it, just a little?" I ask, not really sure of what Maria's reaction will be. Once upon a time, it would have been open hysteria, and more recently, I think it would have been hostility. But now, she's gotten closer to Michael, and so I don't know.
> 
> But what I don't expect is the calm, comfortable "Sure!" I get in response. Lucky for me, she doesn't look up, because I'm sure that the surprise must be quite evident on my face.
> 
> We're settled in this way when Liz arrives, walking through the door without so much as knocking. For a moment, I envy her and Maria's relationship, and then remember that they've made it open to me, and I feel so lucky. Even if it was just a threat from one of my brothers that made them do it.
> 
> She drops her stuff, and greets us cheerily. "Hey, guys!"
> 
> Maria doesn't look up, but I suppose fifteen years of friendship affords you the right to ignore each other once in a while. Two of anger and hostility, really don't, so I reply politely. "Hi, Liz."
> 
> She nods, and pulls gently on Maria's hair. "You who?" She asks, and Maria looks up.
> 
> "Oh," She says with what I know is feigned surprise. "You're here."
> 
> Liz smiles at her. "Yeah. I'm here." She kicks off her shoes, and grabs the bag of cotton balls. "Hey, you got any polish remover, Maria?" She asks. "Mine are still done from the last time we did this."
> 
> Maria shakes her head. "I think my mom goes through it a gallon at a time, getting ready to go out with Sheriff Valenti." She makes a face. 
> 
> "I could do it," I offer quietly, surprised at my own boldness.
> 
> Liz hesitates a minute, then nods. "Sure. What's the fun of painting your nails if they aren't going to look good when they're done, right?"
> 
> She watches as I wave a hand over her feet, and the polish disappears. She grins, and starts stuffing the cotton between her toes. "Thanks."
> 
> "Hey, Isabel," Maria asks. "Can you do my fingers? I think they're going to be stuck this color for the rest of my life if you don't help."
> 
> I smile, and take a look at Maria's golden nails, with little sparkles in the polish. "It's cute," I tell her. 
> 
> "Thanks. I wore it with that dress, that golden one?" Liz nods, and Maria continues, absentmindedly as I wave a hand over her nails. "Of course, nobody got much time to admire that particular combination, but..." She stops when she realizes that Liz is watching her intently.
> 
> Liz looks up at her, and stops painting. "Mariaaaaa?" She asks. "Is there something you're not telling me?" 
> 
> The signals weren't all that obvious to me, but apparently, to Liz, they were crystal clear. Then, I remember the last time Maria wore that dress, and I think there is indeed something she hasn't told Liz. But I stay quiet, willing to let them work it out on their own. Besides, it's really none of my business what she and Michael do with their spare time.
> 
> Once upon a time, I would have been all over them about it, telling them that it's not safe, that we don't know what the alien/human combination would do, but now, I realize that that would have just been a smokescreen for my jealousy. About what, I'm not sure. But that's what it would have been.
> 
> Maria looks like she's weighing the issues, trying to decide if she wants to tell Liz, but I already know she will. She and Liz seem to have almost no secrets from each other. She looks at me, though, and I realize she might be uncomfortable discussing it in front of me.
> 
> "I'm going to go... outside for a minute," I tell them.
> 
> Maria knows what I'm doing, and shakes her head. "No, Isabel, it's okay. It's just a little weird, to be discussing this."
> 
> "Discussing what?" Liz asks. "You haven't said anything yet."
> 
> Maria takes a deep breath. "You know the night when we thought Max and Isabel," She nods to me and continues, "And Michael might leave?" I know she's purposely leaving Tess out of the equation, but neither Liz nor I bother to say anything.
> 
> "How could I forget?"
> 
> "Well, I was kind of... with Michael that night."
> 
> Liz doesn't get it right away, but when it sinks in, she just looks surprised, not angry or upset, or anything. I envy that, and wish that I had a friend who wouldn't judge my actions as much as Max and Michael do. I guess I sort of have that in Kyle, now, though.
> 
> "You slept with him?" She asks, trying, I guess, to make sure she understood right.
> 
> Maria smiles a little, looking at the ground, and fiddling with a ring on her left hand. "Yeah."
> 
> Liz jumps up, and hugs her friend. "Congratulations, Maria, you're finally first!"
> 
> I must look perplexed, because Maria takes it upon herself to explain Liz's statement.
> 
> "It was always Liz," She says. "Got kissed first, fell in love first, went on a date first. Regarding guys, I've always been kind of retarded, compared to her."
> 
> "You have not!" Liz denies, but Maria ignores her.
> 
> "But... Kyle?" I ask, still not sure how this works out.
> 
> "A... trick," Liz tells me. "It's a long story, but at one time, the world depended on Max and Tess getting together."
> 
> I shake my head. "I bet that is a long story," I agree. "Can I hear it sometime?"
> 
> Liz nods. "Sure. But tonight, we're going to have some fun. And celebrate!" She holds up a plastic cup of soda, and me and Maria each pick up ours. "To Michael and Maria!" She toasts, and Maria blushes.
> 
> ***********
> 
> That night took my mind off all of my troubles, and for those fun-filled, gossip-spouting hours of the night, I didn't once mourn over Alex. Oh, I thought about him, what he would have said to Liz or Maria, or me, but never with tears in my eyes, just a smile on my face.
> 
> And now that I'm thinking about it, the next day, I realize that for the first time, I don't want to die. Oh, I never planned on creating my death, but that doesn't mean I didn't wish for it. And now, finally, I want to live for something other than the people I love. I want to live for me. And for Alex. Because he wouldn't want me to be this miserable.
> 
> Oh, but maybe I owe you some more of the reason why I decided I want to live.
> 
> ***********
> 
> We'd watched three movies, eaten a quart of ice cream, exercised together on Maria's floor, drunk three entire 20-oz. bottles of diet Pepsi, and were almost hysterical with caffeine, exhaustion and sugar by the time two o'clock rolled around. Slowly, we cleaned up, and Maria shoved her things out of the way so that Liz and I could spread out our sleeping bags.
> 
> Maria was saying good-night to her mother, and Liz was in the bathroom when someone knocked on the window. I approached it cautiously, having no idea who would be there in the middle of the night. After all, what was the telephone, and for that matter, the front door for if you were just going to use the window?
> 
> I pulled up the shades a little, slightly curious, but not really concerned. After all, what does an alien girl with special powers have to be afraid of? The figure outside was dark, and I pulled up the window. "What do you want?" I asked.
> 
> He turned his head to me, and in an instant, I recognized my brother-not-by-blood. "Michael?" I ask incredulously. "What are you doing here? It's two in the morning."
> 
> He looks just as surprised. "Isabel? What are _you_ doing here?"
> 
> Well, I guess that crosses him off the list of people responsible, if this is a setup. "Taking part in a girly, gossipy, sugar-ridden sleepover," I informed him. "Maria'll be back in a minute."
> 
> He nods, and looking rather uncomfortable, pulls himself through the window. Unable to stop myself, I asked him the question that has plagued my mind for months. "Michael? Do you do this often?" I asked.
> 
> He shrugs, looking at his boots and shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Sorta," he responds, and in Michael-talk, which I've long since learned to decode, that means 'yes'. 
> 
> I grinned, and am just about to start bugging him about spending time with the enemy, asking him where ol' stonewall took off to, when Maria wanders into the room, yawning into her hand, wearing just a nightshirt that barely reaches her thighs. Even after she sees her surprise visitor, she doesn't seem to care about modesty, or lack thereof.
> 
> "Michael?" She asks through a yawn. "What are you doing here?"
> 
> "Are those the only words anyone can utter tonight?" I asked, and as expected, they both ignored me.
> 
> "I just came by to..."
> 
> Maria waved her hand in the fashion only she can. "It's okay, Spaceboy, I know."
> 
> I looked closer at Michael, and realized that I could see the stress through his body, tensing every muscle. And it hurt, and still hurts, me to realize that Maria could see in a glance what I had to take a second look to even perceive. 
> 
> I was jealous, too. I'll admit it. Something was wrong, and he went to Maria. It was just hard to realize that the guy who'd been one of my best friends for year, now had a new center to his universe. Hell, he was going to stay, going to give up the chance to go home, to understand himself and his heritage, just so that he wouldn't lose Maria.
> 
> I slipped out of the room, silently pulling the door closed behind me as I left. I met Liz in the hallway, and she gave me a look, asking me with her eyes, what was going on.
> 
> "Michael came over," I explained. Liz nodded, and we both retired to the living room to await his departure. 
> 
> Just then, a stray thought came over me. "Do you suppose he'd ever use a door to enter a building if there was a window?"  
For some reason, this sets off a chain of hysteria, having been previously there, but needing something to ignite it, and Liz and I muffled our mouths in our hands, trying not to awaken Ms. DeLuca. But we were just crazy with laughter, and when Maria finally comes to join us, she finds us half-on and half-off the couch, our bodies shaking.
> 
> "What's so funny?"
> 
> I gathered my giggles under control long enough to spit out, "We were just wondering... if Michael would use a door.... if he had the choice.... of a.... window!"
> 
> Maria looked at us funny for a moment, and then joined our laughter. Covering her mouth with one hand, she grabbed Liz with the other, and to my surprise, Liz grabbed my hand. Maria took our little train into her room, and shut the door. 
> 
> When we finally stopped laughing, she turned out the light, and we exchanged good-nights. I could hear Maria's steady breathing after only a few moments, and Liz's half an hour later. But I just lay there, thinking my way through the night.
> 
> Michael and Maria have what Alex and I had, I decided. And though it hurt me to see them together, I couldn't bear the thought of either of them hurting the other. And that's what I would be doing to Alex if I gave up on life: I'd be hurting him.

[[Prologue][2]] [[1][3]] [[2][4]] [[3][5]] [[4][6]] [[5][7]] [6]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][8]

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_3.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_4.htm
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_5.htm
   [8]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [9]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	8. Chapter Seven

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Author's Note 2: Two very special lagomorphs (rabbits) helped me through some tough times once. But I bought both of them, knowing full well what I was getting into. Never, ever, give a pet as a gift, especially to a person who is grieving and probably can't handle it. 

Rating: By chapter. 

> Chapter Seven--PG
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> **Six weeks later**
> 
> Life gets better. There is a reason to live, and I've found it, though I'm not really sure I could explain what it is, or why it compels me to continue existing, to keep breathing. It's just something. Something that pulls on the back of my psyche, something that tells me that I have to give life another chance.
> 
> Now that I've pulled a little way out of my depression, it can scare me to look back on that sad, hopeless creature that I was, mere months ago. It's funny how all your inhibitions about dying can go so haywire when you lose someone you love. For a long time, I felt like I wanted to be dead, more than anything, but lacked the courage to do anything about it.
> 
> Now, I'm glad that I did.
> 
> I know that Max and Michael can sometimes feel my state of mind, so it makes sense that they always seem to know when to stay with me, and when I can be left by myself while they go out, and not fall into a crumpled mess. But I have new respect for the human intuition, because if I didn't already know, I couldn't have told you that Mom and Dad, and my new friends, Kyle, Liz and Maria, didn't have alien sensors.
> 
> School is about to start again, and it's back to the hallways of West Roswell High. I still haven't decided whether I'm going back with my friends or not. Technically, I'm not a graduate, but my teachers told me that 'Things could be taken care of' if I wanted to not come back to my senior year.
> 
> I think that it will hurt, probably like hell. But I'm not sure if I should be afraid of that, or not. Over this summer, I've learned that pain isn't always bad, be it emotional or physical. In the physical, pain keeps you from further injuring yourself. In the emotional, it's much more complex, but the idea is the same.
> 
> I have memories in those halls. Memories after memories after memories. Alex staring at me as I walked past, Ice Queen routine in full force. Liz and Maria glaring at me from either of his sides, after I'd snubbed him again. And again. And again.
> 
> Gym was the hardest class to finish last year. I had a lot of sore ankles and stomachaches, but luckily for me, when the school started to get suspicious, my therapist wrote me a note, and I got out of it altogether.
> 
> I kissed Alex in that room. And he was so alive, so pure and clean, and he seemed so happy. It's hard to believe that Tess had a hold on his mind for so long, that she had his mind twisted in unimaginable torment while he grinned down on me like an eighteen-year-old who'd just won the lottery, and had his whole life to enjoy it.
> 
> Sometimes, this unbelievable rage boils up in me, and I have to get to the desert, fast, and let it explode, whipping up sand storms, and creating dust out of the boulders in the vast expanse, so that I don't do so in sight of another person. Tess was my friend, and though she caused more than her fair share of problems, she was so, so close to be accepted into our little group.
> 
> Then, she had to go and betray us like this. Sometimes I still can't wrap my mind around that fact. Because lying, cheating, maybe even stealing a heart that should have belonged to someone else, those are things that I believe Tess capable of. That I've seen her do. But this betrayal, and Alex's murder, it reeks of evil, and I find it hard to believe that she is truly an evil being.
> 
> Maybe I'm just still trying to identify with the only being that ever really understood me. Because, alien or not, Max and Michael are guys, and the male mind, be it a Martian's, a human's, or a snail's, always seem to think a little bit different. And Liz and Maria, even if they didn't both hate me, are human, and can never be anything else.
> 
> Or maybe I'm just still deluding myself. I did a lot of that right after Alex died. Things were so busy, I didn't have time to grieve, so there was a lot of denial going on then.
> 
> Anyway, I'm sure that I'm processing Alex's death better if I'm ready to try to tackle another subject. A couple of months ago, I didn't want to think about Tess at all, because it would have been too much, piled on top of my grief at the time.
> 
> A slight change of subject, but I'm going across the street to take Alex II to visit a neighbor's rabbit, in hopes of convincing him he's a lagomorph, and not a homo sapiens. (Lagomorph meaning rabbit.) No matter what I do, he can't seem to figure out why he isn't given the same privileges as the rest of the family, meaning being allowed to put his feet on the table. (Which is something I really have to got to train my brother out of.)
> 
> Our neighbor is an elderly woman, and she's had several rabbits. She tells me that her rabbit acts like an ordinary bunny, and suggested that maybe Alex II will pick up something from him. I hope so. It's getting too tough to tell my brother to get his big feet off the table, and then have to scoop the bunny off of it, and then have to yell at my brother _again_.
> 
> I'm lost in though, memories consuming my brain's functions when suddenly something flashes in my vision, and I turn sharply. But the truck comes too fast, and the small amount of a push I'm able to give it with my powers isn't enough. It hits me hard, and Alex II skids out of my hands. I watch him, shocked but not yet in any pain, make for our front door and start to scratch on it.
> 
> The driver of the truck, and older man, comes running. "Oh my God," He says. "Ma'am! Ma'am! Can you hear me? Do you need to go to a hospital?"
> 
> The pain is coming now, and my bunny's scratching has caught my brother's attention. Max comes running from the house, yelling for me, scooping the rabbit up as he goes, knowing how much he means to me. "IS-A-BEL!"
> 
> The pain is coming now, waves and waves of it. They wrack my stomach, my chest, my head. But I focus on sending it away, and manage to sit up. I'm glad Max is here, I know he'll think some way out of this. "I'm fine," I tell the worried truck driver, internally grimacing at what I know are life-threatening, maybe even lethal, wounds.
> 
> Max reaches my side, and I reach for Alex. My brother hands me the beloved pet, and helps me to my feet. "She'll be fine," He tells the man as well, "But you can stay, and I'll be back out in a few minutes if you want to make sure."
> 
> The man nods, gets shakily behind the wheel of his truck, and drives it to the side of the road. He then sits worriedly in our porch swing, waiting, as Max takes me and Alex II into the house.
> 
> My brother touches my face and my belly, and looks into my eyes. "Open up, Iz," He tells me. I don't hesitate. There isn't much about me that he hasn't seen already, anyway. I loose my mental barriers, and they come crashing down.
> 
> Max's presence crawls into my head, and I don't fight it. In fact, I don't fight anything. I can feel the wounds tearing apart my insides, but I don't help Max fix them. My pet, the one who probably saved my life, is clutched to my lap like the savior that he is, and suddenly everything is peaceful.
> 
> Max removes his hands from my body, and looks at me, no longer inside of my head. "Iz!"
> 
> I look at him, and his image looks odd, wavy, like things do when you first wake up. I just stare, waiting for him to tell me that I'm going to be fine, that I won't be joining Alex in the sky for a long time. But he doesn't, he looks frantic.
> 
> "Wha...at?" I manage.
> 
> "Iz, you're resisting me somehow! Stop." Max orders, his voice calm, but laced heavily with concern and worry.
> 
> I turn inside myself, and see the barrier I've created that's keeping Max out. But try as I might, it won't come down. Then, I realize that I don't want to. And willpower alone is keeping that barrier up. 
> 
> I look at my brother for a long moment, and I know he sees what I'm feeling in my eyes, because his face shows it. He shakes his head, over and over, warring with his desire to keep me safe, and with the knowledge that I can never truly be happy on earth again, and might be better off wherever it is that Alex is staying.
> 
> "Get Michael," I tell him, my voice whisper-thin. "And Kyle." 
> 
> Max looks at me funny when I make the second request, but just nods. He turns to the door, and tells the man that I'm going to be fine. Then he steers him back to his car, and the driver takes off.
> 
> My brother calls Michael and Kyle, I know. But what he doesn't know is that I know he also called Liz. I can hear him talking of the phone from where I lie in the living room, resting quietly. This means Maria is coming, too, because between Michael and Liz, she'll learn somehow. 
> 
> Originally, I'd planned for only Michael, Max and Kyle to be here. I wanted my parents desperately, but I can't involve them. I can't risk Max and Michael, as much as I want to. Just because I think they'll take it well doesn't mean they will. I hate to admit it, but I've been wrong before.
> 
> But Liz, and Maria only a little less, have been good friends to me in the past couple of years. They're presence can't hurt, and maybe it will help Max and Michael through this.
> 
> I truly don't want to hurt my brother, either one of them. But I'm sick and tired of living in this world without Alex. It hurts too much. I know he'll be sad that I didn't stay, when I see him, but I think he'll understand, too, because I know this is how he'd feel if I were the one lying here.
> 
> And that will to live I talked about? Well, I don't have the faintest idea what happened to it. Maybe it was never really there, I just imagined it because I needed something other than Max and Michael's wishes to make me cling to my miserable existence. Maybe it disappeared, for who knows what reason.
> 
> But it isn't here anymore.
> 
> Maybe I won't die. Then I'll keep going about my life, until another accident occurs, or until I die of old age. But I can feel myself getting weaker, and I pray that Michael and Kyle show up soon. Because I desperately don't want to leave this world without saying good-bye to my second brother, by friendship if not by blood, and the guy who's been my best friend for the better part of this last year.
> 
> Max is kneeling by my side, ashen-faced. Michael just barges in when he shows up, alien powers granting him access. Kyle is close on his heels, and I can hear another car in the street, probably Liz and Maria. They both drop to their knees at my side, too.
> 
> Kyle has tears in his eyes, but he just caresses my face, and tucks my hair away. I look at both of them, and feel the urge to cry, too. "What should I do?" I whisper. 
> 
> Michael doesn't answer. Maria rushes into the room, and wraps her arms protectively around him. He sinks into her grasp, and I can tell you, for a guy who once wanted to be a stone wall, he sure has changed.
> 
> Kyle's voice is shaky, but sure. "What you think is right, Iz. If it's your time to leave this planet, then do it." He seems so sure of his beliefs. And I guess I would be, too, if I thought that everyone I'd ever met would be up there to greet me. But that's not me, and because I don't believe in God, I taking a real gamble by maybe greeting the next life, and maybe greeting nothingness for the rest of eternity.
> 
> I'd be happy to settle for Alex.
> 
> Michael's voice shakes too, but he doesn't offer an explanation as he presses two fingers to my head, and floods me with images. It's a dream, where he's being chased, and I save him. I've seen this before. Michael has some God-awful nightmares, and I've helped him out of more than a few.
> 
> I see the look on his face, and his lips move so little that I almost don't notice, but he utters a soft word. "Please,"
> 
> I know he wants me to stay. But I know he won't ask me to. Because he knows as well as I do that my happiness on this earth has been forfeit ever since Alex Whitman died.
> 
> I look at my brother, and see nothing but sadness and admiration shining in his gaze. Mr. Kingly is letting me make a choice, for once in my life, though there _is_ a practical side of this matter to consider. Without me, Max and Michael might not be able to fight our enemies.
> 
> "I won't tell you what to do, Iz."
> 
> Liz, however, decides to do it for him. "Isabel. The _world_ may rest on whether you let Max help you today or not. I know you're not happy here, God knows how I'd feel if it was Max who'd died that day, but you have to stay! It's not a choice for you to make. I'm sorry, but your happiness, one way or another, isn't the lives of 6 billion people!"
> 
> Michael's eyes plead with me. Liz states an argument that believe me, has gone through my head a million times already. I look at my brother. His look says nothing.
> 
> "Save me," I tell him, in a whisper.
> 
> ********
> 
> He stares deep into my eyes, and presses his hands to my temples. But as soon as they fall away, I know from his look, that it's too late. It may have always been too late for me, I don't know. I like to think so. It makes my burden a little lighter as I leave this world.
> 
> Kyle kisses my forehead, and steps back, tears running rivulets down his cheeks. His cheeks crumpled, "Be happy, Izzy," Is the only thing he tells me before my brothers, both of them, crowd in against me.
> 
> Neither of them are fighting the tears, either. Michael buries his head in my chest, and his head rocks with his sobs. "God, Izzy, I need you," He says, mumbling so badly that I doubt anyone else hears.
> 
> I push his head up with what little strength I have left, and force him to look me in the eye. "You can do it, Michael. I know you can. Don't ever run away from Maria, she can do more for you than you'll ever imagine." 
> 
> I should know.
> 
> Maria takes his arm, and leads him away. He collapses, rocking back and forth in a chair, Maria hugging him, comforting him as best as she knows how.
> 
> Max is before me. My brother looks guilty, and I know he'll say something about it. "Don't be sorry." I tell him, before he can utter a word.
> 
> He nods slowly. 
> 
> "Don't," I tell him again, just to make sure that he knows. "You can't be sorry. This was all my choice, or God's choice, or hell, it could have been Tess's choice for all we now, but it was not yours, Max, it was never yours. So you can't be guilty."
> 
> He nods, and hugs me. His face makes my already soaked shirt wetter, but I don't care. "I love you, Iz."
> 
> I kiss his cheek. "I love you too, Max. Take care of yourself."
> 
> Liz and Maria wander over, looking uncertain and confused, but definitely sad. 
> 
> "We'll miss you, Isabel," Maria tells me.
> 
> "You've been a good friend," Liz adds.
> 
> I try to laugh, but only succeed in coughing up blood. "No, I haven't. But I'll miss you, too." We just look at each other for a long moment, then they pull away, leaving me to be surrounded by my brothers and best friend.
> 
> The world is getting blurry, and I can see something now. I don't know what it is, light of some sort. Maybe my head's dying, not enough oxygen. Maybe there is a heaven, and I'm looking at it. I don't know. But I'm aware of every little touch of Kyle, Max, and Michael's skin against mine, and thankful for every little moment. They've all meant so much to me.
> 
> Suddenly, I remember something that I haven't told Max, and I focus on him, with great difficulty. "You..." I say, choking a little, "You... can do it... Max." 
> 
> He seems to know what I mean, and I'm grateful, because the dark is swallowing me, and though I'm sad, I'm not really upset. I'm going home. To Alex. To be with him for eternity.
> 
> Kyle, Michael and Max's faces are the last thing I see before I shut my eyes forever.

[[Prologue][2]] [[1][3]] [[2][4]] [[3][5]] [[4][6]] [[5][7]] [[6][8]] [7] [[Epilogue][9]]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][10]

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_3.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_4.htm
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_5.htm
   [8]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_6.htm
   [9]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_ep.htm
   [10]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [11]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	9. Epilogue

****

Deal

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I disclaim. I don't own anything. Melinda Metz and Jason Katims own all, the WB, Fox, maybe even UPN own some portion. I'm not them!

Author's Note: I think that Isabel didn't really deal with Alex's death in the show. So, what better time to handle it than... summer?

Summary: It's summer 2001, and though Alex was killed weeks ago, Isabel Evans hasn't had the time to process and deal with her grief. What will her summer be like?

Rating: By chapter. 

> Epilogue--G
> 
> Isabel's funeral was even more somber than Alex's, coming so close on the heels, and the school, aware of their relationship, put up Alex's picture again, next to hers. Her friends would smile would they saw that.
> 
> Her casket was put into the ground right next to his, on Max's insistence. Mr. and Mrs. Whitman had no complaint, telling Max that he remembered how much his son had talked about 'that girl'.
> 
> Kyle, Michael, Max, and the sheriff were among the pallbearers again. This time, Mr. Evans joined them, his face as somber as the rest, maybe more so. Maria sang, and Kyle suggested that she sing 'Amazing Grace', as she had at Alex's funeral. No one objected. 
> 
> But, sad as they were to lose her, Max, Michael, Kyle, Liz and Maria knew that somewhere, Isabel was happy, and often, that thought made it better for them. Took the edge off the bitterness of her leaving them.
> 
> Max was immensely sorry for his parents, who didn't even have to comfort of knowing that Isabel was happy in her death. They were suffering the loss of a life cut short by a hit and run, or so they'd been told. 
> 
> Alex II was brought to the funeral by Maria, who remembered how much the little animal had come to mean to Isabel during the summer months. He seemed to sense the somber mood, and created no problems, none of his usual antics overtaking his actions. Sitting quietly in Liz's arms, he seemed to mourn his mistress just as the others did.
> 
> He'd missed Isabel at home, missed being held and cuddled and whispered at. Now, if he was lucky, Max remembered to feed him. Liz was going to take him home after the funeral, though, because she'd seen that Max was too broken up about his sister to care for the rabbit.
> 
> Rumors circulating the school said that Isabel had killed herself, and Max, Michael and Kyle were constantly being bombarded with questions, Liz and Maria only slightly less so. They had, and gave, only one answer for the questions: "She loved him."
> 
> That was the only fact they were willing to confirm. Otherwise, the school could speculate how it wished.
> 
> They all agreed that too much had happened that summer. In honor of the crazy year, the group bought a plaque, and a bench, and had them put up in a local park. The plaque said: 'Alex Whitman and Isabel Evans, dates of death, April 2001 and August 2001. In love 'til the end.' In the bottom of the bench, Max had carved with his powers, 'Who are you, Tess?' He figured that this completed the idea of it being a life-changing events 2001 bench.
> 
> And every night, the group would pray that Isabel and Alex, reunited in heaven, were happy.

[[Prologue][2]] [[1][3]] [[2][4]] [[3][5]] [[4][6]] [[5][7]] [[6][8]] [[7][9]] [Epilogue]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][10]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][11]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_pro.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_2.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_3.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_4.htm
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_5.htm
   [8]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_6.htm
   [9]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/deal_7.htm
   [10]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [11]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



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